Oceanside Page 7

  Only 1, 2 and 3, Fanny, feeling sorry for yourself only makes the rest more difficult.

  My goal. I had to focus on my goal. Get to Hollie. Hide. Rest. Get better. Then get out of OB and never come back. I tried to gauge the distance to the sub-pump again. Why wasn’t it getting any closer?

  A sudden gust of wind cut right through me, but I turned my face into it. The wet cold air felt good against my skin. The swelling was making my face feel like it was stretched too tightly over my skull. Pulling in another shallow breath, I tried to crawl forward some more. An inch. Two. Then a rest. Just for a moment. My eyes were drawn to the lights on the pier. They flickered like distant stars. The sound of the waves soothed me. And just on the edge of the wind, I imagined a steady beat like someone drumming. Or maybe that was only the pounding of my heart.

  “Fanny! Oh my God! No!”

  “Hollie,” I mumbled, lifting my head. Had I dosed off? Had I made it to my destination? But if I was inside the sub-pump structure, why was it still so cold?

  “No! No! No!” she wailed.

  “I’m ok. Shhh,” I tried to reassure her, but I sounded like a punctured tire with the air rushing out. She gathered me close. I hurt everywhere, but I didn’t complain.

  “Help me!” she cried. “Someone please. My sister’s hurt. Help!” Her pleas were caught up and carried away on the breeze.

  “What the hell!” I knew that deep voice. I tried to focus. It seemed important. But everything was dark now. I couldn’t pry my eyes open. My teeth chattered together. My entire body shivered uncontrollably.

  Hollie said something, but I couldn’t process the words.

  “She’s going into shock. She needs a doctor. Let me get her inside until the ambulance comes.”

  “No hospital,” I protested. “Hollie, no.” I quieted as warmth suddenly enveloped me. I felt so light, so detached it felt like I was floating on the surface of a warm ocean current.

  “I’m here,” my sister said, and I sagged with relief. “I won’t leave you. I’m right beside you.” Why did she sound so far away and strange, her voice scratchy like she had been screaming in a smoky concert hall all night? “Relax. Stop worrying. I’ve got you this time. Let me take care of us for a change. Let me be the strong one.”

  ~ ~ ~

  “Ow. No. That hurts,” I whimpered. Woken from a dream where I had floated somewhere safe and warm, I tried to pull my tank back down. Someone had been running practiced fingers directly on the tender skin over my ribs.

  “Just bruised. Not broken.”

  “There, there little one.” I heard the deep soothing voice and felt my hands captured, enveloped by much larger ones that gently returned mine to my sides. “Don’t interfere. Gloria just needs to make sure you’re alright.” I felt my shirt being smoothed back into place.

  “Poor girl,” a kind feminine voice said. “Rest now.”

  A good plan. I didn’t argue. My back felt like it was cushioned on a soft surface but the rest of me felt crushed, crumbled and weighted down by a mountain of trouble.

  “I cleaned her up. Washed her wounds. Put antibiotic on them. Only one that’s deep. The cut on her ear. The amount of swelling she has around her eyes concerns me. Her nose might be broken. But her pupils are responsive to light. It tells me those blows she took to her head likely didn’t result in internal bleeding. But you really should take her to the hospital to be sure, Ashland. I’m only a paramedic. I mostly just do physicals for life insurance now for your dad. There might be something I’m missing.”

  Ashland Keys. “No!” I struggled to sit up again. “Where am I?” I still couldn’t see and that added to my panic. “Where’s my sister?”

  “Shhh. You’re ok.” That deep reassuring voice again. “You’re safe. She is safe.” Strong hands curled around my shoulders. “Take it easy.” Not a suggestion, a command. His warm breath spilled into my ear. His gentle thumbs swirled a comforting circle into my skin. Tingles rolled through me as firm but undeniable pressure pushed me back down into the bed. Was I in his bed? “She’s here.” A barely spoken whisper, but I heard him. “In the other bedroom. Scared for you, but out of sight. She said it’s what you would want. She insisted on it.”

  “Ok,” I exhaled a shaky breath as the comforting patterns on my skin continued. His voice and Gloria’s seemed to drift far away on a tide. My limbs felt languid. My thoughts scattered. I slid back into the void. It seemed the only thing I could do.

  Chapter Seven

  Ashland

  I paused in the doorway to my bedroom, checking again to be sure the Lakers Girl was breathing. Why I had let her sister talk me out of taking her to the hospital, I wasn’t quite sure. Something about the plea in her wide grey eyes so similar to her older sibling’s. It triggered a basic tenet inside of me. Protect and defend those in your care.

  How and why had someone done this to a poor defenseless girl?

  News flash, Ash. There are evil people in the world.

  Yeah, I knew. Linc’s father came immediately to mind. I was looking at the evidence of someone else with a similar sadistic bent. The Lakers Girl’s face was so swollen she was hardly recognizable as the girl I had been chasing. Her scalp was shorn, nicked in a few places, leaving her completely bald. The top of her ear had a particularly nasty slice. And remembering those bruises on her ribs, my fingers curled inward. I wanted to kill whoever had done this. Yet as I continued to stare beneath my fury a softer emotion, but a strong one began to work. My fingers loosened, and I regained control as it took hold of me.

  Yeah, there was evil, but there was beauty, too. I was looking at it. The way those two were tangled together holding one another, comforting each other even in sleep. There was a lot of love there.

  It had taken them a while to settle, especially the sister. At least the Lakers Girl had been out since Gloria left. She was going to hurt like hell in the morning. For now I didn’t see any reason not to let her, let both of them, sleep.

  No one ever in my bed but me. I let out a self-deprecating sigh. Well, that had gone out the window tonight.

  The younger one stirred, shifting even closer to her sibling. Her movements lowered the covers. I moved closer to draw them back up but then stopped. Their fingers were linked together under the blanket. My next breath lodged inside my chest.

  An old memory surfaced.

  Linc. Me kneeling beside his bed. Taking his hand and squeezing it tight trying to convince him that he wasn’t at fault for the beatings his father gave him.

  Abuse did awful things to a person’s soul. How long had these two dealt with it? Their fear and distrust seemed ingrained. I got the impression that it had been awhile.

  Instead of chasing her, I should have coaxed her. She might have stuck around the surf shop and confided to Simone or Karen. Tonight might have been avoided. I felt responsible. I felt something more, but I didn’t analyze it. I had to fix this if I could.

  ~ ~ ~

  “I told you what the paramedic said last night. If you still won’t let me take her to the hospital, then she just needs to rest. So let her rest.”

  “But her eyes.”

  “Swelling. It should go down in a day or two.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Hollie asked. At the bar the petite strawberry blonde teenager twisted her small hands together.

  “Experience, unfortunately. I had an uncle who used to beat up my cousin on a regular basis. Ice when she wakes up then warm compresses. We’ll get your sister better. Trust me.”

  “I appreciate your help. For last night. For everything. And no offense, but I don’t know you well enough to trust you.”

  “Fair enough. But I think you need to consider trusting someone. You can’t go back on the streets with her like this, and you’re not much better. You’re so weak you can barely stand.”

  “You don’t understand.” She pushed away from the counter and straightened her shoulders. I noticed that just that small effort made her limbs tremble.

&
nbsp; “Then enlighten me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not? Do you think whoever did this can get to her or you here? Not fucking likely. Key card entry just to get into the building. Then a code I change out regularly for the private elevator to this floor. Then a regular key to get into the penthouse. You’re safe here. And Gloria didn’t see you. I didn’t even mention your name. I respected your wishes. I helped you. I don’t plan to stop helping you. My friends have been helping your sister all along. Why not trust us? Why not trust me?”

  “Because…”

  “Because,” a different voice repeated, a sweet melodic one, and the pan clattered as I shoved it to the back of the stovetop. I turned and immediately had to school my features to pretend I wasn’t disturbed by the Lakers Girl’s appearance. Face even more swollen, if anything she looked worse right now than she had last night.

  “Because we can’t.” Her hands fluttered in front of her chest. I tried not to get angry again but failed as I registered the dried blood stains on her tank.

  “Hollie,” she began. Taking another step forward, she winced and would have gone down except her sister had scooted off her stool and flashed to her side. The significantly smaller girl ducked under the older one’s arm becoming her crutch.

  “We’ll discuss it later.”

  “Well discuss it now,” the Lakers Girl said firmly, frowning at her sibling.

  “No.” The two exchanged a look. A test of wills. One squinting through the narrow gap in her gaze while the other’s determination flashed in her eyes. As bad a shape as the Lakers Girl was in, I knew she wasn’t going to give in.

  “Hols,” she gentled her tone. “We decided. We’re in this alone, just the two of us.” She swayed suddenly. Her sister’s knees buckled under the additional weight. I rushed over catching and lifting the Lakers Girl before she could hit the ground like the younger one had, right on her rear.

  “You stay,” I stated firmly. “I’ve decided for both of you.”

  “Bbbut…” The one in my arms trailed off as I narrowed my gaze on her.

  “You’re in no shape to argue. And neither is she.” I cast a quick glance to the younger. She had regained her feet, but tottered as if a grommet sized wave might knock her over. “This is ridiculous. Both of you back in the bed.”

  “No. I…”

  “It’s not up for debate,” I barked as I strode effortlessly back toward my bedroom with the older in my arms and the younger one in tow, her footsteps silent, her labored breaths audible.

  I gently placed the Lakers Girl back in my bed. She hadn’t just sagged into me. She had sighed, inhaled deeply as if my scent had been a healing elixir, and then she had burrowed into me as if my arms were the safe harbor she had always sought. I liked that. I liked it a lot. Liked the way she had felt in my arms. Yet, I frowned as I untangled her grip from my neck because she weighed much too little for someone who had to be at least five-foot-seven.

  “We can talk more about you staying here after I bring you some food and you get some more rest.” I handed her an olive branch. I had no intention of letting her leave, but I sensed she would be more cooperative if she felt like she had some control of the situation. It’s how I would feel certainly. I also did it because I needed to reboot the dynamic between the two of us. I didn’t want her running from me anymore. I much preferred the burrowing and clinging. “I’m Ashland Keys, by the way.”

  “I…I know who you are,” she stuttered. “I mean, I know you’re the drummer for the Dirt Dogs. Everyone in OB knows that.”

  “Ok.” I nodded, accepting that. OB was a relatively small community, though in all the years we’d been a successful band, I’d never gotten used to strangers knowing me by name. “But we haven’t been formally introduced, right? Not that there’s been a lot of time with you running and me chasing you all over town.” I dropped down to a knee beside the bed. I was a big guy. Someone had brutalized her. I didn’t want her to perceive me as a threat. I also wanted to acknowledge my part in us getting off on the wrong foot. “I’m sorry about that. Sorry I scared you. That wasn’t my intention. Do you think we can start over?”

  She nodded. “I’m Fan…Frances.” She shook her head subtly as Hollie sank onto the bed beside her.

  “Nice to meet you Frances.” It felt better than nice. It felt familiar somehow, probably only because of all the time I had spent in pursuit of her.

  Grimacing, she reached up and touched her bald head and ducked her chin to her chest.

  “Well, the circumstances aren’t nice. I’ll give you that. But we can try to make the best of it, starting with getting you both fed. I was just getting ready to make breakfast. I don’t have a ton of culinary skills, but I can scramble eggs. And toast some bread. Would that work for both of you?”

  They nodded.

  I stood. “Alright then I’ll get to it.” And yet I lingered just a moment longer. My gaze encompassed both, but I settled it on Frances. She was the one in charge. And her eyes, even just the slivers I could see compelled me to hold it.

  “Don’t give Hollie a hard time when I leave the room.”

  “I wasn’t…”

  “You were.” I cut her off. “I get that you’re wary. I think I understand more than you think I do about your situation. Hollie did the right thing last night calling for help. You can’t keep going this alone. Whoever hurt you isn’t going to stop hurting you, and the next time will likely be worse.”

  Chapter Eight

  Fanny

  “He thinks we’re in some sort of domestic abuse situation,” Hollie hissed after Ashland left.

  “Yeah,” I agreed. He actually wasn’t so far off the mark. “I ran into Karen earlier at the church. We talked a bit. I said I was in trouble, but not with the law. She probably told him about it, and now, after what happened to me, I imagine it was a natural conclusion for him to draw.”

  “Not so natural. But understandable. Did you hear him tell me about his cousin?”

  Expression somber, I nodded.

  “Did you know Lincoln Savage had a history of being abused?” She twisted on the frayed hem of the blue plaid thrift store shirt she had been wearing with the same pair of jeans the entire time she’d been sick.

  “No. I don’t think it’s a widely known fact.” In all the interviews I had watched back when I had been obsessed with the band, I had never heard the lead singer mention it. Probably because either Linc had yet to come to terms with it, or simply that he wanted to keep his personal life private. But I could certainly empathize with either reason.

  “Well, I think it says a lot about Ashland that he came to our rescue. That he shared. That he wants to help. So why lie to him about your name?”

  I dropped my chin. Lowering my head made my swollen nose throb, but I couldn’t maintain direct eye contact with her. I didn’t want her to see the entire truth. That keeping my identity a secret had partly to do with my pride. I didn’t want him to see me like this, didn’t relish anyone seeing me like this really. But the other reason, the more overriding one, was the risk of our being discovered. “Even a guy like Ashland Keys can be bought or manipulated, Hollie. Have you forgotten the things Samuel said to you before we ran?”

  She shook her head. “But Fanny, what happened to you…” Her voice choked up and tears filled her eyes. “Those guys still pose a real and present danger. Whereas Samuel…”

  “Just as real,” I interrupted.

  “But…”

  “He was siphoning money from your account.”

  “I’m not so sure,” she protested. “Ernie only said there were large irregularities.”

  “He came onto you,” I reminded her.

  “He was drunk.” She dropped her eyes.

  “That’s not an excuse, honey.” It saddened and disturbed me that she would defend him.

  “I know.” She gnawed on her lip.

  “I get he’s the only dad you’ve ever known Hols,” I said gently. “But he betrayed
that trust. And the part about mom, the things he told you that happened on the boat the night she died? That’s why we ran. That’s why we can’t tell anyone. Who knows what he’d do to keep us silent.”

  “You’re right, Fanny.” She lifted her watery gaze, the tears in her eyes spilling down her cheeks, but her expression was firm.

  “If I had known he was manipulating you, hurting you the way he did me, I never would have left you there with him.”

  “Not your fault. You’re not responsible.” Hollie grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “You and me. No one else. We stick together. And when I turn eighteen.” She climbed into the bed with me, her shirt so big on her small frame that she had to lift the hem. “Then we get my money, lawyer up and do what needs to be done.”

  ~ ~ ~

  It was nighttime. Hollie was sound asleep beside me when he appeared in the doorway again. Not to take our plates away or to bring me hot and cold compresses or pain relievers. This time he just stood in the doorframe filling, no eclipsing it, with his larger than life presence. I pretended to be asleep wondering why he was watching us so closely. Curiosity perhaps. I didn’t think he was worried about us robbing him because there was nothing in the apartment to steal. No TV. No computer. Not even a laptop or a sound system which seemed odd given his musical background. Just the amazing Spanish Mediterranean architectural elements and the breathtaking views of the ocean out every window. Plus his furniture, though the arrangement of it only seemed finished in the central living space. The pieces were nice, sturdy dark wood and earth toned leather. Nothing within the inner sanctum of one of the legends of rock ‘n’ roll that revealed to me more than I already knew. I had as many unanswered questions about him after a restless night and a sleep filled day spent in his apartment as he probably had about Hollie and me.

  We were being purposefully evasive. What was his story?

  After a couple of moments, he moved closer. Through my lashes, I watched him. Same graceful swagger, made more devastating by the jeans that fit him exceptionally well and the smooth skin and sculpted muscles displayed above it.